All Bets Are Off
by MrDirty30s
Summary: My wife finds Michael Fassbender incredibly attractive. I also happen to have a wife-watching fantasy that she knows about but has no interest in fulfilling so don't bother offering. LoL Kate is encouraged by her husband Jack to indulge in their fantasy of having a one night stand with Michael while he watches it all unfold in front of his own loving eyes.
1. Chapter 1: A New Spin On An Old Holiday

**_Chapter 1_**

On Friday, February 29th, Kate emerged from the bathroom, dressed in her normal post-shower attire. She had a tan bath towel wrapped around her slender, curvy torso, as she vigorously dried her hair with a second towel. She felt Jack's eyes on her and she wrapped the towel around her body, aware of how little it covered. She playfully slithered from side to side, allowing her hips to let Jack know that she did not mind his eyes drinking in her beauty. She smiled at him as he lay across their bed, trying to get his eyes to meet hers, but his eyes were too busy staring at her thighs, her hips, her waist, her tits, and then back down again. A half-smile crossed his face, surrounded by his full goatee. Kate could only imagine what impure thoughts were soaring through his mind. Ten years of marriage and she could still sense his thoughts, both good and evil.

"You're still in bed, lazybones," Kate teased. Jack closed his eyes but kept smiling. His hands stretched high above his bed as he pushed his legs out forward in one big stretch. He countered her tease in their flirtatious chess match, by allowing his arms to flex. That is one feature of his she always admired: his arms. They were thick yet muscular and had two of the strongest, gentlest hands one would ever want touching, caressing, stroking, pinching a body.

He cleared his throat. "It's Leap Day, honey. You know what people say about Leap Day." Kate smiled brightly, ready to counter.

"What: another day between us and summer vacation?" Kate turned away from Jack and playfully dropped the towel to the floor, revealing all those devilish curves Jack had come to enjoy. She was already thinking about the day ahead and all the paperwork work that came with the end of February, as she prepared her reports.

"No," Jack retorted. "On February 29th, going back to ancient times," he paused, allowing that playful half-smile to return to his face. "On February 29th," he repeated again, "all bets are off."

Kate stared at herself in the mirror and fasted a plain ivory bra. She raked her fingers through her still-wet, red tinged chestnut colored hair. "Is that so?" Her tone was dry, faking non-interest. "Uhhhhh….that's a new one. So the Romans used to go around and say, 'Hey-us, it's-us, February-us 29th-us. All-us bets-us are off-us?' That's a new one."

"It makes sense though, right? February 29th is the day that doesn't really exist. So ergo – wherefore and therefore – nothing that happens on that day really exists either." Jack stood up, realizing how late he was going to be for work. He crossed from the bed and it was Kate's turn to watch. His cock was swollen, and a tiny, glistening drop of pre-cum emerged from it. His body certainly looked improved. They'd both made a New Year's resolution, like tens of thousands of people, to visit the gym more. Unlike many others, they had stayed true to their resolution and so far it had paid off quite nicely.

Kate looked down and back up into Jack's eyes. Smiling, she asked, "Pardon the pun, dearest, but what's your point?"

He paused at the bathroom door, where steam still slightly clouded the edge of the mirror, and he shrugged. "Just that today, we can do all those things we normally wouldn't." He looked at the shower door, and then at the light fixture in the ceiling, concealing the shit-eating grin that spread across his face like wildfire.

Kate's face flushed. He was talking about the fantasy again – _his_ fantasy. Kate had been shocked when he first confessed the fantasy. She wanted to hate it, but couldn't. She wanted to be disgusted by it, but just wouldn't. It went against every fiber of her good-little-Catholic-girl upbringing. She loved Jack more than she ever thought possible. She loved the comfortable life they led: the two children, the family dog, the vacation timeshare, the suburban home, the two mid-sized SUVs in the driveway. It was perfect in every way and she had no desire to ruin it. Yet at the same time, she loved the idea of turning him on, using his fantasy as the basis for so much dirty talk. The sex was good already, but when Kate talked to Jack about his fantasy while he was inside her, she could feel his shaft grow and his cockhead swell.

Her little office flirtation with Michael had been completely harmless. Jack knew about it, after all. It had never led anywhere and it was never meant to. But it was inevitable that her attractive coworker made it into their bedroom fantasy.

She had felt remorseful afterwards, despite Jack's encouragement. Jack told her, while his cock was buried in her from behind, to imagine she was with Michael – to close her eyes and feel her colleague's powerful body was driving deep into her instead.

When her pregnant coworker told Kate she was going out on leave replacement in November, Kate's stomach went into knots. "Great," she thought, "what old maid is human resources sending us now?" Then when she found out some German man who lived in London was hired for the semester and he would be returning to London in July, Kate's face turned red and she frowned. "Perfect. Some goose-stepping castaway from jolly old Britain with no clue how our schools work. Way to go, HR." When Michael walked into her office before Thanksgiving break and introduced himself, there was no hint of an accent nor any trace of foreign arrogance. She only saw his tall chiseled frame standing at her desk, with his piercing, cool blue eyes, his closely cut brown hair and 5 o'clock shadow smiling back at her.

She imagined his eyes staring into hers, filled with hunger, the way he sometimes looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking. She imagined the way he shrugged every time he noticed the sparkle of her engagement and wedding rings. She imagined the way he must have smelled after his drive home from work in his BMW and how it must have been a combination of sweat, cologne and leather. She had cum hard that night when Jack first planted the seed of Michael as her lover in her mind.

When Kate was notified that Michael was moving back to London sooner than expected, she was feeling sad and relieved – and felt guilty for feeling either. Her co-worker was coming back from maternity leave just ago at the end of February, she told herself that it was good for him. He was advancing his career with a new company that focused on making software and apps for children with special needs, and she felt that this was an opportunity where her co-worker – her friend – could really blossom. But she would miss their friendship and their playful flirtations and even their banter about the morons they worked with. And then, just like that, he was gone. Even after just two days of no Michael, things felt quiet, and that was fine. Yet there was a small lead pit in her stomach that she likened after a relative or a beloved pet died. Yet he was gone and that was fine.

_But he isn't gone yet_, a little voice reminded. The same voice kept echoing Jack's absurd comment: _All bets are off_. If Michael hadn't left – if she went into work today and he was there – and he asked her to happy hour today, would she have accepted after turning him down time and time again? Would she have the guts? It didn't matter. Michael was gone. Almost

Jack's cock hit full length as he stepped beneath his shower head. His imagination was going wild. Jack had brought it up after a few drinks on a Wednesday date-night at a local Chinese buffet. He'd harbored the secret for years but three mao-tai's later, he finally admitted it. _I want to see you fuck another man. I have fantasized about it for year, hunny. _Just thinking about it sent a pulse of pleasure up his soapy length. That was the great irony. Jack had no idea why it turned him on. Rationally, it was idiotic. Rationally, it was a really bad idea in every way imaginable. But rational or not, the erotic thought made his cock hard every single time.

Jack pumped his cock, knowing that the suggestion was working its way through Kate's normally vanilla mind. He thought about the first time Kate mentioned Michael. She'd been so carefully casual about it. When Jack teased her, referring to Michael as her little office crush, her face turned five shades of red.

Too bad Michael accepted that job back in London. Jack was only slightly more disappointed than Kate, although they both knew it was for the best, not that anything would ever happen between the two of them.

Despite the fantasy, Jack and Kate were a normal couple living safe, normal, secure lives. They had their idiosyncrasies involving kids, dinners, date nights and television at night. It was a routine they enjoyed.

Only today was different. Kate's parents had taken the kids to visit her aunt and uncle for the weekend. He didn't believe in fate. A man made his own fortune. But this was almost too good to be true. When he emerged from the steam of the shower to an empty bedroom and saw their matching iPhones sitting on their chargers, he knew what he was going to do. _Leap Day_, he reminded himself. _All bets were off_.

When he finally made it into the kitchen, Kate was sitting at the cherry wood kitchen table, sipping her coffee and skimming through Jack's iPad. He noticed the black stockings and heels and the way her hair fell in chestnut cascades around her face and shoulders. She always looked good but today she looked extraordinary.

"Your lunch is on the counter," Kate said without looking up from the iPad. Judging by the way she uncrossed her and recrossed her toned legs, she knew he was looking.

"Oh, thanks honey, but I think I am going to go out to get lunch today. No Lean Cuisine for me today, since all rules are officially suspended by the federal government today."

Kate looked up from the iPad. "That's the way it works huh? Maybe I should book an appointment for a mani/pedi and massage at the spa."

Jack kissed Kate softly on the side of her neck and she smelled like candy. It was a scent she normally saved for date nights. "If you do, make sure you book a waxing." There was the menacing smirk again.

"So Leap Day isn't about the rules and bets being off, but the hair too?" Kate laughed at her own comment.

Jack bowed down and held Kate's cheeks in her hands. His hazel eyes met her beautiful blue eyes. "It means that you should push your boundaries and maybe get a little crazy." He kissed her on the nose and stood, crooked smile back in place. Their Leap Day was just beginning.


	2. Chapter 2: A Phone Swap

**_Chapter 2_**

Kate couldn't shake Jack's suggestion, and God damn him for being so sincere about it. He knew exactly what he was doing. She spent the ride to work trying to force herself to think of all kinds of "off-limit" activities that didn't involve the one perversion Jack wanted her thinking about: a day spa, new Uggs, skipping the gym, eating Burger King and ice cream for lunch. But by the time she arrived at the office, she gave up. Only one thing kept returning: Michael**. **Michael and his chiseled jaw and his beautiful eyes and his brown hair. Michael and the way he looked at her at team meetings. It was so, so wrong.

Nothing had ever happened between them outside of a lingering hug after a successful parent-student-team meeting earlier in the week. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel it. They said their good-byes two days later on Wednesday. A bunch of teachers and colleagues were taking him out to Happy Hour last night, but Kate tactfully, calmly declined. "The kids, you know," was all she offered. He understood although his eyes seemed sad. Besides, she no desire to become the office cliché at the end of a night filled with alcohol and emotion. So they shared a hug if nothing else.

_But it doesn't have to be_, the naughty voice reminded her. _His flight doesn't leave until tomorrow night_. She could call him right now. She could offer her help packing. She could see if he was free for dinner. The hair on her neck stood up and her throat tightened. She almost gave in. _Damn it, Jack._ She shook her head and tossed her cell back into her purse.

Several hours passed with Kate's head spinning and swimming. She was glad that most of her reports were done because she was useless now. By 11am, she gave up and called Oasis to book a noon mani/pedi and a 1 o'clock massage. _Fuck it_, she thought. _It's Leap Day_.

Kate finished printing the last of the reports and literally had nothing left for the rest of the day. She handed her neat and tidy reports to her assistant and faked a disgusted look. "Deb, I am not feeling too well. I think I need to go home and rest. I am taking the rest of the day." Deb nodded and wished Kate a good weekend and an obligatory yet friendly, "Feel better, hun." Kate made her way quickly out to the car, a pit truly forming in her stomach over the lie she just told.

Jack accepted the futility of concentrating about work before he even arrived. He quickly pulled over to the side of the road and entered in a sick day on the FABLE Sub-Finder network. He texted his lesson plans to a colleague and quickly made his way to the closest Starbuck's.

_ This is like cutting class_, he thought as he settled into a plush armchair, a latte in one hand, and an Entertainment Weekly in the other. He felt giddy. Grading would be there on Monday. Progress reports would be there on Monday. All his cares about work faded under the sound of the indie rock playing over the speakers.

He read EW from back to front, starting with the Bull's-eye, a tradition he began ever since they devoted the entire piece to Jennifer Lawrence in one issue. As he waited for his second Vanilla Latte from the pierced barista, he smirked and stared aimlessly into the faux-marble countertop. _So, Mr. All-Talk, _**this**_ is your idea of getting a little crazy? Wow! Pump the brakes, big guy._

Jack glanced at the iPhone sitting on the table where he'd left his bag and EW. Then his heart pumped faster. It wasn't his iPhone, it was Kate's. His heart raced and he returned to his seat. The caffeine was part of it. Having her unlocked phone was the rest.

He pressed the home button and the screen lit up. It showed a picture of Jack and their two kids. That was a pretty good portrait of their lives together. He looked at his face in the photo: wide, goofy and harmless. That was all about to change.

This was such a bad idea. He knew it. But it didn't stop his fingers from navigating to her contacts. There were privacy implications, the reasonable side of his brain rationalized, as he continued to scroll down to F, where he found Michael's last name. He found Michael's contact info including his personal phone number.

_Of _**course**_ she had his personal number._ It rankled him, but he didn't dwell. Jack tapped up their text history and his hand began shaking. This was worse than looking into her personal diary, but he was here now and couldn't _not_ look. Besides, he rationalized, he needed to know their styles of texting if he was going to get this next part carefully right. When he realized they were mostly work related – with the odd exception of some innocent, personal details – he breathed a little easier.

With a draw from the paper cup housing his latte to soothe his nerves, he thumbed a message into Kate's phone to Michael. Jack read it. He re-read it. He read it a third time. He checked that the recipient was the right Michael and not some shitheel she knew from somewhere else. He hesitated. His finger hung heavy as it lingered above the send button.

_A man made his own fate_, he reminded himself.

Then he did.

Kate was in the middle of her French manicure when she heard an unfamiliar chime from her purse. It sounded like a Viking horn calling warriors to arms. _That's odd,_ she thought. _That's my text alert on Jack's phone_. Pulling the iPhone from her purse with her free hand, Kate read the message.

-_Hun, I have your phone and you have mine_

Kate started to fumble a reply awkwardly with her left hand when it chimed again.

-_Oh yeah, and I also pretended to be you and texted Michael. He wants to know if you'd like to have dinner tonight_

Kate blinked at the screen, barely comprehending his words, with feelings of excitement and anger coursing through her veins. He was so full of shit.

-_Ha ha…funny_

Still uncertain, she added her usual comment when she was confused by Jack's texts.

-_?_

The manicurist held out her hand to finish applying the polish and she reluctantly set it face up on the counter.

-_Sorry, Kate. Not joking. I told Michael that I (meaning Jack) was out of town at a coaching clinic and that you (meaning you) were bored. He suggested dinner. I told him I (you) needed to think about it_

_Kate was almost too shocked to be angry. Almost. How could he do that? He took her phone? Deliberately?! He pretended to be her? To bring Michael into their bedroom fantasies was one thing, but to bring him into reality? No. No, no, no, no, no, no, _**no**_! That was taking it way too far._

Kate glanced at the Korean woman doing her nails. She was a pretty Asian about her age who'd made very pleasant small talk until the texts started coming in. Jack would be drooling over her. She thought of why she was here and suddenly the mani/pedi annoyed her. Jack's doing somehow. His stupid idea about going crazy. His stupid idea about no rules on Leap Day. She asked the woman doing her nails. "Did you know that on Leap Day, supposedly, you can do anything you want and it doesn't count?"

The nail technician shook her head. "Sounds like something a man would come up with." _Bingo_, Kate thought. "But," the tech continued with a hint of playfulness in her voice, "It sounds like it could be fun though."

That was the thing though: behind the anger, something quivered. It made her breath come up short.

"So what would you do if you decided to observe Leap Day like that?" she asked the woman as she finished her last nail.

Kate watched the woman blush avert her eyes and blush. That brought heat to Kate's temple. Why did everyone's thought immediately turn to something sexual?

When the woman finally spoke, she just said, "I don't know but I would probably just let go and enjoy whatever happened."

Kate relaxed and nodded. Jack's phone chimed again.

-_Want to meet for lunch and talk?_

With her free hand, she carefully typed an answer.

-_Meet me at the GABRIELE'S at 3pm. I'm getting a massage._

Not _everything_ "fun" and carefree had to be about sex.

_-GABRIELE'S? Really?_

-The sushi bar. You need some oysters for later. ;-)

The late lunch crowd at GABRIELE'S was light. Jack arrived first and requested a seat in the upstairs loft. The host was hesitant because that section was only opened for the dinner crowd, but after slipping her three twenty dollar bills, her reluctance disappeared and an exception was made.

He marveled at the sight of his wife as she joined him, walking up the stairs with an extra sway in her hips. He'd been worried about how she'd take the whole phone stunt, but at first glance she didn't seem mad. If anything, with fresh finger and toe nails and a relaxing massage from her favorite masseuse Cindy, she glowed.

"You look great," Jack said as Kate held out her hand.

"Uh-huh," she smiled playfully annoyed, "my phone, now, mister." He revised his thoughts. Maybe she wasn't entirely calm yet.

"How about a kiss first, dearest?" Jack stood up and opened his arms.

"My phone, Jack." Clearly, Kate was not going to back down, Jack let her stew a moment longer. He thought she was so sexy, bristled with anger. "Fine. But then my kiss." He fished it out his pocket and handed it to her, but didn't let it go immediately. He reeled her in with it until her body brushed against him and he could lean in for a kiss. She turned away, yielding just her cheek. He took the exposed nape of her neck instead, pressing his open mouth to it, drawing a sigh and a shiver from her.

"God, I love you," he whispered in her ear.

She pulled back, fixing him with a look that tried to be cold but melted into a smile. "You really didn't text Michael, did you?"

He settle into the horseshoe-shaped booth and spread his arms along the back of it. "You have yourself," he smirked. "See for yourself."

Kate took her seat right next to her husband. Jack watched her squirm. He could sense the knots that had massaged out beginning to reform as she checked the phone. It was all there, just as he'd said. The "-how's it going?" text from "her", a casual drop that she was bored because Jack was in Pittsburg at a coaching clinic, then the dinner invitation from Michael. The last text was an outgoing one from JM to MF:

-_Let me think about it. I'll text you later._

Kate's mouth drew tight, and her forehead furrowed, but there was also an excited softness. A silent sigh escaped her lips. She could hardly believe it but through all the madness and oddities of Leap Day, she was as turned on as Jack was.

He cozied up to her and kissed up and down her neck softly again. "Aren't you going to answer him? He's been waiting so patiently."

Kate shot him a look. "Damn it, Jack. You know what you did right? The longer I take to get back to him, the more he'll read into my reply. And you sent that –" Kate checked her phone yet again. "Oh my God! Two hours ago?!"

"You're the one who wanted a massage," Jack defended, using his classis move of somehow turning this around on her. He hadn't intended the gap to be so wide, but deep down, he knew she was right. Michael was probably at home with a massive rod, checking his own phone with OCD regularity.

"So now what? What am I supposed to say to him?"

The air between them was heavy. "What do you _want_ to say?" His words came out thick and rolling. His tongue felt swollen.

Kate picked up her phone and quickly texted him. Her fingers shook as she typed in each letter of her response to Michael.

_-Dinner sounds great._

She showed it to Jack before pressing send. Her blue eyes met his hazel eyes after he read the draft of the text. Her eyes said it all: _is this_ **really** _a good idea?_ Jack's hands slid up the inside of her thighs, dragging across the lacey tops of her thigh highs under her skirt. She spread her legs slightly when his hand reached bare flesh. Jack nodded before he moved in and kissed her behind her ear again. Kate's thumb mashed the send button and she moved her mouth to her husband's. She pressed into him in a hungry, desperate kiss. This was new, scary, arousing territory for them both.

Jack's fingers brushed along the crotch of Kate's thong and found the satin incredibly moist. She drew back from the kiss and just in time.

The waitress glided up the stairs, looked across the empty booths and found Kate and Jack cuddled together, flushed and out of breath. Jack didn't take his hand out from between her thighs. The server was cute – a short curvy Japanese twenty-something who wore her black hair in ponytail. She was definitely Jack's type. Kate even remembered the phrase used in Japanese to describe women with such curves. "Shibo-usui-shibo" meant she was "fat-thin-fat", or nice curvy tits, a smallish waste that gave way to wider hips and round ass.

"Hi, my name is Lily. Are you two ready?" Kate did a double-take noticing that double entendre and the extra attention the cute Asian was paying to her husband. Lily smiled, "Or do you need more time?" She bit her lower lip and swayed back and forth.

Kate felt pangs of jealousy rage through her. "Oh thanks, Lily," Kate stabbed. "I think my _husband_ and I will need a few more minutes." Jack turned and stared at Kate, noticing the extra stress she placed on the word "husband." He beamed with pride at this.

Lily nodded and left them with a coy smile. Jack didn't even wait for the swaying ponytail to disappear down the stairs before his lips returned to Kate's neck and the soft pads of his fingers pushed against the soft, satiny wetness of her mound.

"Jack! C'mon, not here." Kate pushed his chest, but the pressure was weak at best. She looked to the menu and cleared her throat. "So, what's good here?"

"I know what I'd like already," he whispered softly, his lips quickly returning to her neck. His index finger passed across her swollen clit. Kate groaned and opened her legs wider. Jack grinned to himself, realizing his wife was just where he wanted her: at the brink of acting reckless.

"I hear they do a great vodka and oyster pairing," he said matter-of-factly, pulling his hand away from her saturated slit, and point at something on the menu. "I know I don't normally do vodka, but hey, it's Leap Day." His smile broadened as he pretended to scrutinize the menu. The look on her face was priceless.

"But I don't eat oysters, Jack. What am I going to have?" Kate's phone chimed. Jack glanced at her phone and grinned from ear to ear.

"Well love, you better eat light. We have to get you home and get you ready." Kate tilted her head and suddenly her eyes widened. "Seems you will be eating French food this evening."

Kate snatched her phone with two hands. She saw the text from Michael on her iPhone.

-How about La Panatiere? It's in Greenwich. 7pm?

"La Panatiere?" Kate's eyes remained glued to the screen.

Jack sat at the table, noshing on some complimentary bread and olive oil. "Classy. Sounds very nice." Jack nodded. "Very romantic."

"It's nothing, I'm sure." Jack knew Kate saw the same sly craftiness of his dinner choice. She simply chose to accept the harmlessness of his selection rather than the sexiness of it.

Jack was about to call Kate on it when Lily returned to save her. "Well you two look like you're more prepared for me. Do you know what you want?" Jack loved the naughtiness of this waitress despite Kate's reddening face and angry glare.

Jack glanced at Kate quickly, pretending not to notice her fiery jealousy. "Sure, I do. I'll have the California roll and the Manhattan Seafood Platter." Lily scribbled Jack's order on the pad.

"With Grey Goose?" Lily waited for Jack's reply with a cute smile on her face.

"Grey Goose will be fine."

"Very good, sir. A classy order for a class guy," Lily flirted. She turned and her demeanor cooled. "And for the madam?" Kate looked at Lily and then at Jack and slightly shook her head.

She looked back at the waitress and offered her order. "Chicken Caesar Salad. No anchovies. Thanks."

A smile split across Lily's face. "Okay." She reached down and snatched the menu from Kate then turned to Jack and gingerly took it from him. "You two are fun," she said, staring at Jack. "If I can be of any further service," she paused making sure she had Jack's attention, "please just ask." Lily disappeared.

Out of sight, Kate finally broke her silence. "You think she's cute?" Kate asked, her attention focused on her cell phone.

"Yeah she is," Jack replied. "She got a lot of confidence."

"She's got a lot of balls." Kate bluntly declared with both hands clutching her sweaty water glass. "You want her?" Kate's voice went from confidence and anger to faintness and trepidation.

Jack cracked a smile. "Maybe in another life. Or before you."

"Smooth. But seriously, this is Leap Day. Doesn't that mean you can…you know…" Kate was always embarrassed by using that sort of vulgarity.

"What? Fuck her? Ear her pussy?"

Kate's eyes budged down and away. "Yeah."

Jack scratched his cheek. He'd already begun to grow stubble, despite his morning shave. "And if I did," he paused, "if I fucked her, would you be cool with it?" Jack arched his eyebrows.

He watched the jealousy tighten across her forehead and pinch her eyes. She tucked her chin down to her chest. Her body language offered the reply which was a cool no.

"And how about tomorrow? Would you forget all about it on March 1st?"

Kate raised her head slightly, her eyes fixed on the sweaty glass of half-drunk ice water. "Of course not."

"Then it doesn't work for me."

Kate raised her eyes, cautiously looking at Jack out of their corners. "But I thought that was the point of your little tradition." She averted her eyes bashfully. "To do whatever you wanted."

Jack laughed. As much as it sounded like his own "little tradition" it wasn't. "It sounds like every man's fantasy, but this isn't a fantasy." He grabbed Kate's hand off the water glass and held it firmly. She loved how his strong, manly hand gently caressed her soft skin. "In fact, the way I see it, Leap Day gives us an excuse to be just a little crazy." He glanced at her phone and back at Kate's sparkling eyes. When she noticed what was going through his head, her heart almost pounded right out of her chest.

"How is me…" She still couldn't bring herself to use the word regarding Michael. "How is me and Michael any different than you and what's-her-name, Lily?"

Jack smiled and leaned in so that his forehead touched hers, never once breaking her gaze. "The difference is that I am cool with you and Michael."

"Really?"

"Really." The answer was more complicated than that. The thought alone had been something he fantasized about for years. It was right up there with watching Kate with another woman. But there were other emotions mingling with the sexual arousal. There was uncertainty, guilt, anger at himself, recklessness and the jealousy that burned deep in his stomach like a molten lead ball. Since his text to Michael, there was the jealousy that overwhelmed him so much at points it nearly forced him to call off the dare.

Kate broke his concentration, reaching beneath the table, finding his strong erection. In the end, after the love, honor and respect that they had for each other, there was always the lust they had for each other.

"Wh- Where are you going, Kate?" Jack asked as she abruptly released his erection and slid out of the booth.

"The bathroom, dearest," she smiled. "I'll be right back, love, don't worry. I can trust you to be good in my absence right?" She winked at her astonished husband, turned and walked towards the ladies room.

Jack fixed on her shapely figure, particularly her ass as she glided away from him. She swayed back and forth in her skirt, and he needed to adjust himself.

Kate's pussy was soaked by the time she locked the bathroom door. She was soaking by the time she locked the bathroom door. She could still feel Jack's firm cock in her hand. She imagined what it would feel like in air of the restaurant. Would it make him any harder? Longer? She laughed at herself as her heart skipped. What would Jack have done if she'd gone ahead, unzipped him, and dropped her head into his lap? He'd probably love it, who was she kidding! Kate took a deep breath and forced herself to look into the mirror. "Breathe, girl!"

She thought back to her massage. She'd been so angry as she'd gotten undressed and crawled up onto the table. By the time she was putting her clothes back on, though, she'd felt ready for anything.

But now, Jack had redefined what anything meant. Was she up for it?

"All better?" Jack asked when Kate returned.

Their meal had arrived. Oysters and shots of chilled vodka were arranged on a tiered platter of crushed ice. Jack had already squeezed lemon onto the oysters and was salivating for his first shot.

"That looks good." Kate slid back into the both and kissed him on the cheek.

"Yeah, I love oysters." Jack looked over the platter, figuring which oyster was going to be his first victim.

"I wasn't talking about the oysters, love." Kate sank beneath the tablecloth and under the table. Jack glanced down at her, blinking in disbelief. She saw the what-the-fuck-are-you-doing question in his eyes. Before he could open his mouth and ruin the erotic moment, Kate unzipped his pants, reached in and wrapped her fingers around him. After that, he was done; protest gone.

Kate couldn't believe she was doing this. Waves of heat filled her body as she pumped Jack's cock, working the leaking pre-cum into his cockhead. She tightened her fingers and pulled down roughly, and she felt him melt into his seat. Feeding off the naughty power she held, she shivered and struggled and closed her lips around the now-glistening head.

Jack groaned, tipping his head back into the cushion of the booth. Kate watched him carefully. He was their eyes and ears. With him attempting to be vigilant, she felt secure – as secure as she could feel under a table in an empty restaurant with her hubby's cock in her hand.

Her tongue's first pass swirled around the head, surveying the contrast of soft skin over firm flesh. She stretched her lips around him and let him fill her mouth, collapsing the moist walls of her cheeks against it as she sucked him. He felt huge – he always did at first, especially after it had been a while. With kids, with work, with everything life threw at them week after week, it had been too long.

She withdrew at the same agonizing pace, leaving it wet and glistening. With a pop, she let her mouth fall off of him, and she looked up into his eyes with his cock in her hand and smiled. Encouraged by his gaze, she returned to his thick rod. As much as she loved torturing Jack with her vigorous sloppy blow jobs, her racing heart didn't let her forget where they were.

Jack splayed his fingers across the linen and hooked his thumbs around the lip of the table. He forced deep breaths through his nose. She recognized this tactic instantly. It was his signal that his climax was building.

Kate peeked up at him, watching his chest rise and fall in quick shallow breaths. She slid and swirled her mouth faster. Her mouth and her body were on fire. Any moment, they could be caught. Any moment, Lily could return to check on them, their drinkers, their food, anything. The threat of being caught added a whole new realm of arousal to Kate's pulsating clit. The fingers of her free hand worked beneath the skirt and her panties.

Kate groaned, the low sound sending a hum along Jack's length. He jerked in his seat, sending the cap of his cock into Kate's throat. She gagged slightly, but quickly relaxed her throat. She had been with Jack long enough to know how to deal with his manhood when he really got excited.

Another idea shimmied into her thoughts. She pulled off, holding his cock against her face as rubbed it on her cheek. She looked up at him with an innocent look. "Is this what you want me to do tonight? With Michael?" She felt him throb in her pumping hand. "Because that's who I am imagining."

Without another word, she fell on him again. What had been a white lie to get Jack off turned into truth, as she inhaled him again into the back of her throat. She shut her eyes and suddenly it was Michael looming above her, legs wide, cock hard and at the ready. She reached down again and her fingers circled her clit. Her body swelled and contracted as her own release began to build. She moved her thumb against her clit and pushed two fingers into herself as Michael's imagined cock surged inside her throat.

This was wrong, yet it wasn't wrong enough to stop. She wanted to feel that girth in her pussy not her mouth. She wanted to feel it deep and hot inside of her, stretching her tight pussy until it burst.

Jack's sharp inhalations ripped through the air as Kate's throat and cheeks caved around his cock. His orgasm quaked from balls to shaft to crown. Jack's cum sprayed deep into her throat.

Kate rose from beneath the table, sucking in fresh air. The confined space had been sweltering, the linens trapping heat like a pressure cooker or a convection oven. She grabbed the first thing she saw and downed it: a shot of chilled Grey Goose which was smooth but still burned her throat. She wiped her forehead and glanced at her husband. He stared at her with a bemused expression that made her feel bashful. Instead she squared her shoulders, picked up another shot, and said, "To Leap Day."

While Kate floundered, Jack looked on, impressed. He hadn't looked at her like that since they'd first fooled around, back when they were both in college.

He grabbed a shot of Grey Goose, clacked it against Kate's and repeated the toast. "To Leap Day." Together they downed the chilled liquor like nothing ever happened. Like they were toasting a new car or a nice raise.

"I cannot believe you just did that. You never cease to amaze me."

Kate's heart fluttered in her chest. "There is still a little evidence if you need more convincing." She touched his cock which protruded from his trousers, soft and wet. It jumped as Kate touched it. To feel it penetrating her, her thighs spread over Jack's abdomen, her clit grinding against his pelvis; that is what she really wanted. She shook her head. What was wrong with her? She was thinking like a nymphomaniac.

Jack tucked himself away and zipped up just as Lily returned. They ignored the smirk on her face and pretended that her "how does everything taste?" was just a routine question.

Jack ate his California roll and his oysters. Kate noshed on her salad. They each had a few more shots of the booze, carefully talking about everything and anything other than what was at the forefront of their minds. It took Kate's phone chiming to bring it to the surface.

_-So is 7:00pm tonight okay?_

Kate looked at Jack, with that pit returning in her stomach. "I don't think this is such a good idea."

"Oh, it's not." Jack laughed, a little buzzed on vodka. "It's definitely not, but that's what makes it so hot."

Kate just shook her head. "This is insane." Then she thought about how he'd swap their phones and drove her to this point. "You really want this?"

"Look, honey, I love you, and I know you love me. That's never going to change. We're going into this with both eyes wide open. I want you to have fun. I want you to go a little crazy. Just for a day. You'll be mine tomorrow. You'll be mine every day after that." Jack slurped one last oyster down. "But tonight you are free to be with him."

"Why though? What do you get out of it?" She narrowed her eyes. "You sure this isn't some clever ploy to fuck the waitress?" The vodka loosened her tongue. "She'd be up for it. I've watched the way she's been eye fucking you since she took our orders."

She didn't like the new arousal in Jack's eyes with her last comment, but ultimately, he shook his head no. "I told you," he started. "It's not like that. This isn't about me with other women. Unless of course you wanted to hook up with Lily." Kate's head snapped up and stared at Jack as he continued. "Now that would be fucking hot!"

Kate rolled her eyes and snorted. "Maybe next Leap Day."

"So you're telling me there's a chance," Jack said, sarcastically mimicking a line from the old Jim Carrey movie, Dumb & Dumber.

She bumped into him with a giggle, trying to pry an answer out of him

"Seriously though, I can't explain it. It barely makes sense to me. But I don't think there's going to be a more ideal time. Your parents are away for the weekend. The kids are away for the weekend. It's Friday night. You think he's hot. There's no chance of him trying to steal you away from me or any awkwardness at work because guess what? He's out of the fucking country tomorrow night!"

"You really should have been a lawyer. You make it sound so rational, when what we are talking about is me fucking another man!" Jack liked it when Kate swore. It was so much nastier than her normal self. If she actually went through with this tonight, it would be that feeling an infinite amount of times over. She continued her cross-examination. "Aren't you worried about him ruining me for you or something?"

Jack laughed and grimaced. "Please! Like that's possible. If anything, you'll appreciate me more. Not every man can do what I do."

"What's that?" Kate quipped. "Roll over and pass out?" She smiled at him and bit her bottom lip.

Jack pulled her against him and ran his hand up her thigh. She parted more easily than before, but he stopped at her stocking tops. "Why don't I give you something to remember me by?"

"Here?!" Kate wanted his cock filling her so badly. Going down on him was risky. Actual sex was just plain crazy. They were adults, after all. There would be consequences. "Uh-uh," she protested. "Although I want you to fuck my pussy and pull my hair, Jack, doing it in this restaurant is just a bit much, no matter how special the day."

"That's cool. I have my golf instruction in 45 minutes anyway at the indoor center."

Kate laughed. "That's the hubby I know. Don't get your pixel stuck in the virtual sand trap."

The loving couple finished their meal and enjoyed the loving banter over coffee. Neither realized that the evening had only just begun.


	3. Chapter 3: A Close Shave

**_Chapter 3_**

Kate braced her left hand on the shower wall, spreading each finer until the webbing of her hand stung. The pain cut through the relentless of the massive orgasm that was coursing through her body. Her other hand shifted the detached showerhead against her clit and moaned out the last of it.

Her arms were rubbery when she reattached the nozzle and switched it to a gentler setting. She hadn't intended to play with herself, but she seemed insatiable. Even crouching on the floor of the shower and letting the spray wash away her perspiration, she tingled for more.

"Get a hold of yourself, girl." She stood, her knees wobbly, and thrust her head under the water. She opened her hands in a prayerful pose and splashed the water across her face, tracing the contours of her nose, her lips, the jut of her cheeks, then back through her wet hair. The hot water needled her breasts. When she cupped them, allowing the water to collect under her breasts, her nipples were hard.

Kate shampooed her hair and washed her face without issue, but when she took a washcloth to her body, she had to fight the urge to play some more. She hadn't felt this sexy since she and Jack went away on one of their steaming adventures to Atlantic City.

When she went for her razor to do her legs, she thought about who she was doing that for. Could she really let another man run his hands along her legs? Her hand travelled across her trimmed brown pubic hair. Would he touch her there?

Kate reached for the shaving cream again. She thought about Jack and how much he loved it when she got her bikini waxes at the spa, each time leaving the slightest landing strip to guide his tongue to the promised land. Sometimes, she wondered if Jack made it his mission in life to reduce her short and curlies to nothing at all. She'd always resisted. She liked having something there. It made her feel powerful and womanly. She liked having it closely cropped, and in the summer, the slightest patch.

Tonight was different, to say the very least. She wasn't pleasing Jack. She didn't even think about what her hands were doing. Her mind was on autopilot, spreading a thick white lather across the gentle rise of her mound. Michael was slightly older than her. Single, attractive and holding a steady job that displayed his affection for children, he'd probably been with a number of younger women. Kate knew she had the body to compete with any of them. This was just another competition.

Kate re-lathered, her last strokes going against the grain to give her a nice smooth shave. It was only when she rinsed the foam away and ran her fingers across her bare flesh that she realized that she'd done it.

Guilt sizzled across her scalp in the hot shower. How many times had Jack asked her to do this? How many times had she told him that it was never going to happen? And now she'd done it not for him – or even for her – but for Michael.

Her fingers finished their journey across the soft curve of her clean-shaven pussy. With nothing to obstruct it, it was so easy to find her clit, and when she did, she nearly lost control. The excitement fed off the guilt like fire feeding off kerosene. It was that naughty giddiness of smoking outside the school behind the clocktower. Or more recently, going down on her husband in a posh restaurant in the middle of the afternoon after cutting work.

With those thoughts, couple with the thoughts of Michael and his coolwater eyes, it didn't take Kate long to cum again. She leaned a shoulder against the tile and pressed her cheek against the shower wall as the water sprayed down her back. Her fingers glided back and forth over her slick clit and she pressed two fingers into her folds.

Kate shuddered, eyes shout, lips pressed tightly. Perception faded. She felt each isolated drop of shower water hit her back and ass. She felt the liquid heat of her orgasm pulsate through her abdomen into her tummy and down her thighs.

Sound eventually returned, harsh and high-pitched in her once muted ears. Her throat was raw. Had she been moaning? Screaming? She never screamed when she came, but it felt like she had been.

She soaped up her washcloth again. She wanted to feel fresh, to feel clean, for whatever was going to happen tonight, no matter how wholesome or naughty it turned out. No sweat. No smell of old sex. By the time she stepped out of the shower, she was shriveled and pruny, but clean.

Picking what to wear was tricky. She didn't want to be too obvious and lead Michael on – no matter what Jack thought, she still clung onto the straw that this was just dinner, not a date. But she also didn't want to look like a slob. Wearing an Alabama hoody and pair of Pajamagram pajama pants wouldn't be quite right for La Panatiere. This was very much part of the game: how close to the line could she get without being too slutty nor too Puritanical?

Standing in front of her closet nude, she settled on a dark green sweater dress that was clingy without being trashy. The green brought out the color of her hair, and while it wasn't short, it felt short enough. In the mirror, she admitted that it looked and felt good.

Footwear was her next big decision. Heels were out of the question, and flats were too grandmotherly. She settled on a pair of knee-high brown leather boots with wedge heels.

It was her lingerie drawer that she finally let herself cross the line. Michael would never see the choices, so she nourished her fantasy there.

She hadn't felt like this since college on the blind date when she first met Jack. She'd made the same assurances to herself then, not knowing that he'd eventually see her pretty undergarments soon after anyway. The thought remained the same as she selected a pretty emerald green thong with black lace and a matching bra. She pulled on black leggings, reminiscing about how Jack kept touching her stockings earlier. She swooned at the thought of giving Michael just a tiny glimpse.

Jack came home from his golf lesson in South Norwalk. He walked into the bedroom and saw Kate blow drying her hair into long, chestnut waves. She hadn't put on her dress yet and stood framed in the light of the bathroom. Jack stared at her, mouth ajar, swearing he would never take his beautiful wife for granted again.

"Hey honey," she greeted. "Hard day at work?" Jack stared at her in the mirror and saw her quick wink and smile.

Jack resisted the easy set-up. "You look…amazing." He eyed her shape as she stood there primping herself. "Anyway we can pretend it's Leap Day everyday?" He drank in the sensual emerald thread of her lingerie. The spindly bands of green arced over her hips and met in a scrap of black lace before plunging between her heart-shaped ass.

Kate laughed. "Every day? I'm not sure I could take that." She slipped her blow drier back onto the shelf above the commode. And she stretched out like a dancer.

He eyed her greedily. "I'm not sure I could either."

He watched Kate prepare with the sexual fascination of a teenager looking at his first Playboy. Every vivid detail prickled across his eyes and settled like a rock in his stomach. His manhood flinched with white hot envy and promiscuity.

She finished her hair first, brushing it out before letting the curls bounce along her shoulders freely. She tucked several strands behind her ears and she glanced at Jack in the mirror, flashing him a smile from her tilted face as she fastened her dangling hoop earrings. She started on her make-up next. She applied it slightly heavier than normal: blush to emphasize her soft cheeks, eyeliner to widen her beautiful blue eyes, and mascara to lengthen her gorgeous lashes.

The lipstick was last and most painful for Jack to watch. He watched her pick through shades and his cock tinged against his zipper. She'd pull out a shade, apply it, blow herself a kiss, and wipe it off, offering critical commentary each time. Red? "Too suggestive." Pinks? "Too cute." This was followed by the questions he had racing through his mind, forcing his heart to beat harder and harder. _Did she take this long when getting ready for me? Was she so meticulous?_

Kate settled on a maroon that was close to her natural color and matched perfectly with her hair and the color of her dress. When she turned and smiled at him, Jack didn't know whether to kiss her, fuck her or beg her not to go. "Well," she playfully asked, "what do you think?"

Jack rose darkly. The lipstick was perfect. The hair, perfect. The lingerie, perfect. The preparation had him erect and uncomfortable, yet it had also tweaked a nerve. Kate grinned and slowly turned her back to him as he closed in and stalked her.

He watched her turn, shielding herself from the hunger and possession in his approach, but knew she craved it all the same. He adjusted himself, and Kate heard the faintest sigh escape his lips.

In those moments before presenting herself to another man – possibly falling into the arms of another man – she needed this. She needed to be needed by her husband and not just because she was quite possibly giving in to his fantasy. She needed to be owned by him, to feel loved and possessed, in a marital loving way, not in a dom-sub way.

Jack pulled her back to his chest and he cradled her in his strong frame. "Let's be clear again, just to be on the safe side." Jack stared into Kate's eyes through the mirror. The tone of his voice reflected sincerity, not fear nor debate. "You're free to do whatever you want tonight. It's Leap Day. Remember: all bets are off. Anything goes."

Anything. That word. Endless possibility assaulted his mind, entwined in the shadows of taboo. Thoughts of Michael, of Kate and of all they could possibly do together. Jack's cock was stiff against Kate's lingerie-clad ass. She closed her eyes and moaned softly, arching her back against his stomach as his hands cupped her soft breasts. She yielded to his moves. His voice dropped even lower, the first gusts of a thunderstorm. "Understand one rule, though. At the end of the night, whether it be 11pm or 5am, you come back to me, where you belong."

He loved her and his voice told her this. She felt possessed. A moan tumbled from her mouth as she melted against his body. He held her tightly in his thick arms. He always did and always would.

"Do you understand, beautiful?"

Kate nodded. Jack dove along the exposed sweep of her neck. His fingers stiffened, denying the thirst to drink in her curves. He grazed his teeth along her neck, nibbling, stopping before he bit.

"I didn't hear you," he commanded.

"Oh God, yes…." she whispered. It came out more a hiss than a whisper as she dragged out the S. He thumbed her nipples and cupped her soft tits.

"Yes, what?" He skimmed his right hand down her tummy and pushed his fingers along her thong.

"Y- Yes, I'm yours. You own my pussy. I'm- I'm always yours." She rocked back against him. She was water against stone, crashing and thrashing her supple ass checks against his firm manhood.

Jack eased his hand along her sticky womanhood, hot and shockingly smooth. His fingers slipped underneath the seam of her thong. His heart stopped._ Had she…? No she did _**NOT**_… Was she completely…? _Kate had shaved her pussy completely bald. For him. He pushed forward slightly, moving his firm fingers between those super soft lips. He kissed her neck harder, letting his wet lips arouse the goose-bumps on her neck. He knew she was teetering on the edge.

And suddenly, he pulled away and backed away. She cried out in protest as he led her to the bed and laid her down. He pulled her panties down and draped her legs over his shoulders. "You did this for him," he breathed, kissed her thighs, "didn't you?" It was a question, but felt more like an erotic tease. It felt like a punch to the gut. Yes, she did do it for Michael. They both knew it. Both Jack and Kate felt simultaneous pangs of guilt, jealousy and arousal.

Jack tilted his head, strumming his tongue along the top of her hooded button. She grinded on his mouth, driving her hips down for him. He heard her imminent orgasm in her breathing, panting heavily, and he pulled away.

"Don't stop –" she hissed.

He slid two fingers into her, down to the knuckle and allowed the soft pads to find her sweet spot. "You keep trying to tell me what to do." He pressed the pad of his thumb against her clitoris. She cried out as if struck by a bolt of lightning, her body flinching forward. "I think I need to teach you a lesson." With one last circle of his thumb, he pulled his hand slowly away.

"No! Jack, no! God please fuck me!" She pushed up on her elbows, her eyes shut with desperation.

Jack tried to contain his smile but it came out almost cruelly. He licked his fingers. "Mmmm…baby, you taste so sweet tonight." As he did, he wondered would Michael get to taste her later? Jack's cock felt like a baseball bat, springing out from his crotch. "I look up at you as I eat your pussy, and all I picture is Michael's cock in your mouth as he straddles your head." Kate moaned. "I bet you got yourself off in the shower already, haven't you?" He smiled and his hand resumed stroking her wet slit. Jack carefully avoided her clit

"Jack, please," she begged, rolling her hips against his touch. He pushed her down with his fingertips. She resisted a few seconds longer, than gave up.

"So, baby," he paused, "did you cum hard in the shower thinking of him?" He stroked the smooth rise right above her clit, where there was once soft, brown hair. Her bare skin was even hotter than he'd imagined, somehow more so because of her intended audience.

Kate nodded, her eyes shut tightly. Her breathing settled and grew heavy again.

"Good, because you're not going to again until after dinner." He slipped his fingers inside of her again, and quickly licked her clit. Her body tightened. His mouth descended again, nuzzling her swollen folds with his lips and tongue. He sensed her orgasm building up by the pitch of her moans and the way her thighs tightened around his neck and down his back. Just a few more licks, a few more twists of his fingers, and…

And he was off her again. She tried to hold him close. She clamped her strong thighs around his head and pulled his hair, but he was too strong and playfully brushed her off and pulled away.

As he stood and peeled his shirt off of his torso, he ignored the plea in her eyes. Instead, he worked down his pants and his boxer briefs, his cock springing to life. He stepped forward holding his thick cock at its base, and rested a knee on the bed between her legs.

With his free hand he touched her pulsating pussy again. Scouting. Discovering. She watched his fingers work, hoping that he would let her cum – or get so caught up, he'd forget to stop. She sighed when he placed the bulbous tip of his swollen cockhead against her clit, brushing the spongy head and teasing her with its ridge.

"I like this," he said, sawing his shaft between her lips and across her hot, swollen button. "That's so fucking hot." His next pass wasn't along her but inside her.

"Feel this, baby. Remember this thick dick stretching you."

Kate squeezed her walls as she writhed beneath him. "God, Jack, please just fuck me."

When he pulled back and stroked her again, she flowed against him, crashed against him. Three strokes and she'd be there, shattered and broken down. Two more – "No! Why?" she cried out.

He pulled out of her and pushed to his feet, towering over her. He glided his hand along his length, moistened by her own tangy excitement. Jack had played this game before and could keep her teetering on the edge for an extended time.

Kate sat up, curled her legs under her, and took over for his jerking hand. She tugged him, the supple flesh sliding up and down his rigid shaft. Stroking from base to head, she worked in her lubrication. He squirmed each time she passed across the ridge of his cockhead, the pressure in his balls growing.

Her hand squished wetly as she picked up speed. He'd already cum once with her at lunch, but felt a second begin to build up. She added her other hand, tugging on his balls as she stroked his cock in an erotic harmony. She moved forward sucking the head into her mouth, realizing by the tightness of his manpurse just how close he was. She swirled her tongue along the crown, flicking the sensitive area on the back of his cock. Jack began breathing heavily. "Oh fuck, Kate. Yes. Yyyyyyeeeeeesssss!"

And then she pulled away. She looked up at him and smiled, pleased with herself. His thick cock was still secured in her hand. "Well, love," she teased, "if I don't get to cum before the restaurant, you don't either."

Jack stared down at her. Her face glistened, but somehow her hair had maintained its semi-casual style. She was gorgeous. What the fuck was he doing?

He backed away from the bed and turned to head into the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower. He stepped away into the bathroom. "No playing with yourself while I'm in there."

Kate nodded, eyeing his engorged cock. "Sure. But the same goes for you."


	4. Chapter 4: Dinner Time

**_Chapter 4_**

Kate drove herself to La Panatiere, alone in the car with just her heartbeat and the little mischievous voice singing in her ears. All the reassurances she told herself in the shower that this was "just a dinner" helped a little, but her palms were sweaty, and that molten lead ball in her stomach got deeper and deeper each time she thought of Michael.

_Michael. Michael and me._ Just thinking about that coupling made her face and scalp blaze with guilt and excitement. She thought Michael was attractive from the first time she'd met him, although that wasn't a surprise. He was fit with brown hair and his cold steel blue eyes with a hint of an English accent. Physically there was nothing not to like. It was his easy-going yet professional confidence that really got to her. Michael was like a different version of Jack in a more fit body, complete with all the scintillating newness.

They'd always kept their relationship a professional one. Other than in pure fantasy, Kate never considered cheating on Jack. Jack was the love of her life. She didn't need anyone else. Even when she had fantasized about having other men, she imagined herself as a single woman so she didn't succumb to the guilt of marital vows.

Hiding in the deepest recesses of her mind, though, where the thoughts hid that made her stomach flip and her heart skip, was a curiosity. Jack had coaxed it out of hiding with his wife watching fantasies, and in the last month of Michael's employment, with him leaving, it soon moved slowly to the forefront of her own sexual thoughts. In fact, she had refused to go to that final happy hour farewell for fear of what might happen. The look of hurt in Michael's eyes and his faux reassurances that he was fine haunted her since.

So here she was now, driving to meet him. Alone. No husband. Even with Jack's set-up, she could have found an excuse not to go. She could have chosen to wear jeans, sneakers and a hoody instead of her sweaterdress and boots. Even the music she chose to play when she pulled up to valet had been a tough decision just in case he was waiting outside the restaurant: Sting? Kenny Chesney? Pop dance? Sting would send a message, that she was infatuated with Englishmen and that Michael was just a means to an end. Not Kenny Chesney. Too many reminders of the fun summers with Jack and the pangs of her own guilt would follow closely behind. Pop dance music kept her options open. Fergie and Katy Perry said "fun" and "young", instead of "Mom" and "married."

The plan was for Jack to arrive at La Panatiere ahead of her. He had stopped by the French restaurant on his way home from his golf lesson, to make sure his booth had the perfect view of theirs. The tip he offered the maître d was appreciated and he was reassured that it would not be an issue. Now here he was again, driving back to Greenwich with blood rushing in his ears. This was the culmination. The anticipation reminded him of childhood Christmas mornings when his eyes first opened. There was also his mother's own nagging voice. _Be careful what you wish for, Jack._ By the time he walked up to the coatcheck, he was shaking.

"Ah, Monsieur Michael, your table is ready. The _madame_ and her beau have not yet arrived. Right this way, _s'il vous plait_."

Jack was so caught up in that holy-fuck-this-is-happening haze that he barely heard the maître d mumble something about a server being along shortly. He wouldn't be able to hear anything and probably for the better, but he would be able to watch them without being obvious.

Michael arrived a few minutes later and Jack pretended to review the menu as he was guided by a young blond hostess to the not-too-distant table. As she walked away, he noticed Michael check out her ass and a wave of anger rushed over his body. The dumb fuck was about to have his wife and yet he greedily drank in the curves of another woman. A man brought a beer over to Michael and he didn't even bother to acknowledge the server's presence. He simply thumbed at his phone. _Texting Kate perhaps? Writing one of his buddies back in jolly old England, bragging about another MILF he was about to conquer?_ Jack stirred with jealousy, rage and arousal. He shifted in his seat.

Michael had dressed in a pair of pressed coal-grey suit trousers and a light blue oxford. He hadn't worn a tie yet he did not have a ridiculous number of buttons undone. He rolled the cuffs of his shirt halfway up his forearms, exposing his expensive wrist watch. Jack recognized that look. It was a look that said he was prepared for a night to go either way. The little prick probably smelled of rich mahogany, and had many leather-bound books.

Kate finally arrived, looing radiant. As clichéd as it was, her entrance did light up a dining room filled with stuffy older couples and standard first dates with guys desperately trying to impress their prey. And one very jealous, very aroused husband. She had freshened up and fixed her hair, which was loose and bouncy. She had replaced the hoop earrings and replaced them with a pair of teardrop emerald earrings that swayed with her long, surprisingly confident strides. Only Jack noticed the white knuckled grip she had on her black leather clutch, the only revelation of her near crippling nerves. The green sweater dress was clingy enough to hint at her soft yet athletic body and short enough to show off her black leggings to anyone looking – and there were many looking.

Watching them greet each other, shy and smiley, Jack thought of his own first date with Kate. She'd dressed more provocatively then than she did now, but still maintained that same flirty openness. They'd sat in the front of Jack's car that night, softly making out. Several successful dates later, Jack had performed oral on her virgin pussy for the first time. He grew to love her and that love was deep and erotic. That was the Kate he was seeing now. Not the wife who did the laundry or the mother who taxied their children back and forth to do the shopping. Not the professional who cared deeply about the children she worked with. He saw the woman who confessed she wanted Jack to go down on her shy, timid womanhood. He saw the woman who was so bashful and so self-conscious about giving him the first blow job she ever gave that she pulled the blankets over her head while doing it.

The cocktail of emotions were strong enough that when the waiter offered, he didn't really need a drink, but ordered one anyway: a double whiskey – Jack Daniels – on the rocks. This scene acting out in front of him was the culmination of his darkest, craziest, most taboo fantasy. What better cause to celebrate! Right?

Kate felt all the eyes on her. Was the whole restaurant watching her? Judging her? Did they know who she was meeting and what she was thinking? She nearly fled. Instead she leaned on the nervous energy for strength.

Michael looked fine. It was always a little strange seeing him when he wasn't dressed for work – less like a co-worker, more like a man. He stood like a gentleman as she approached. They held their hug a heartbeat longer than what was appropriate, neither wanting to let go. Was this it? The last time they were going to see one another? They were convenient acquaintances who enjoyed one another's company, but not close enough to want to keep in touch. It happened all the time.

"You look great," he said and when his eyes flickered from her face down to her boots, she _felt_ great.

"Thanks. So do you." She liked the way his shirt tugged at his shoulders. He'd rolled the sleeves up his forearms and Kate felt herself fighting the urge to reach out and touch one of his bare arms. She shook the thought away. "Why don't we sit?"

"Right. Of course."

Kate wasn't used to things being awkward with Michael. Even when they would harmlessly flirt in the office, it was never strained and silences didn't need to be filled with inane chatter. Tonight, Kate fell the urge to talk about the weather, or ask him things about his new job in London that she already knew.

Michael helped her out a little. "I'm so glad you texted. I must admit, I was more than a little disappointed when you were a no-show to my Happy Hour the other night. We didn't get a proper good-bye."

"A proper one, huh? You sure that's what you want?" Just like that, the awkwardness was gone. It was always like that with Michael: so easy to be bad. Like eating chocolate when nobody was looking.

"Well, now that you mention it, Kate, there's nothing proper about what I had in mind."

Kate raised an eyebrow. He usually wasn't this forward. She liked it, although she had the feeling he was just teasing.

"But those plans were for after Happy Hour," he continued, "when I'd finally worked up my nerve, knowing I was on my way back to London for good. Now, I'm sorry to say, you just get a nice French dinner." Michael smirked. "You know, the French aren't good for much, other than kissing, fries, oral sex, and cooking." Kate laughed. "In that order," he continued.

Kate allowed the joke to drift away from their conversation. "So you had to work up your nerve for me?" She knew it was all playful teasing, but she liked the idea.

Michael hesitated. He ran his fingers along the condensation of the water, studying how the droplets pulled free and ran down to the tabletop. "Why did you text me?"

His eyes swept up to hers after the question left his lips. They softened the bluntness of his question, but she felt a little battered. _I didn't_, she almost said. Was Michael offering one last way out? Like every other opportunity, she didn't take it. "I had a free night?"

She'd meant to say evening. God why hadn't she said evening?

"So, then, just because?"

She considered putting it all out there. _Well, Michael, my crazy husband has this crazier idea. Because I've always had this fantasy about you. Because since I have realized you are moving back to London, and I will never see you again, I want to fuck your brains out. _Her eyelids fluttered. Her mouth went dry. "Yeah, I guess just 'cuz." Putting it all out there wasn't really her style, but she had to give him something. "I'm going to miss you, Michael. And what we had."

"Me too."

She wanted to reach out and touch his hands, so busy wiping down his glass. If he were Jack… But he wasn't.

Michael and Kate spent their first bottle of wine talking about the safe things – the inane chatter that Kate had been dreading. The weather. His new job. His moving process. The thing this time was, it didn't _feel_ inane or empty. It felt fun, like everything that had together in the office.

"Have you checked out the profiles of the other married mothers at the new job for any replacements?"

Michael's eyebrows arched. "So that's the role you've assigned yourself? MILF? I hardly know if they'd let you into your club, Kate."

The conversation took a sharp left. "Oh, so you're an expert on cougars and MILFs now, are you?"

"Well, I wouldn't say 'expert', but I've done a little research on the subject."

"_Really_, now?" Kate was intrigued. "Anybody I know?"

"Well," Michael slightly squirmed in his seat as Kate leaned into him, "I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. You know the English teacher Mary?"

The hair on Kate's neck stood. "Really? Mary, huh? Hmm." Kate clasped her hands over her mouth. Despite her obvious distaste for the entire English department, Mary might be considered a MILF by some or a cougar by others. She was in her mid-40s, a divorcee with bleach blond hair that could not possibly be natural. "So, stud, tell me how long that's been going on?"

"It's not really like that. We hooked up a couple times, but that's all."

Kate felt a little prickly. This was a side of Michael she didn't know. She knew he had lovers, of course. He was single, in a different nation, and very attractive and Kate wasn't naïve. But he had never talked about them. And now, to find out while she was getting all excited over their little office flirtation, thinking she was doing something illicit, he was busy fucking one of the bitchy, permanently on-the-rag English teachers, in the janitor's closet no doubt. Or maybe on the teacher's lunch table after everyone left for the day. Now, she felt childish and she hated feeling childish. "You two lovebirds hook up after Happy Hour? I seem to recall Mary being one of your cheerleaders for you to come out to Happy Hour now that I think about it."

"Kate, are you- are you _jealous_?" Michael stared at her like she'd grown a second set of eyes.

"_What_? No! Of course not." That lie wouldn't convince Kate's 4-year-old daughter.

"We didn't hook up after Happy Hour. No. I went home all by my lonesome. I even cried myself to sleep with a rose on my pillow that reminded me of you. That better, love?"

Kate cracked a sarcastic smile. "Yeah, a little."

"You know, that's not terribly fair of you. You made it pretty clear that we couldn't go there. No further than playful flirtations. So you really don't have the right to be jealous."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not."

"Grand," he replied curtly.

"Tell me, Michael, because I've always wondered. Is her hair natural? Do the carpet and drapes match?" Kate shocked herself with her venom. She'd suspected that she was getting drunk – they _were_ on their second bottle after all – but now her thought was confirmed. Carpet and drapes was more of a Jack phrase, not her own.

Michael hesitated, seemed to consider addressing her petulance, then decided to ignore it instead, and play into her little childish game. "I wouldn't know. She waxes down there. Not a trace to remind anyone."

"So that's what she's got on me?" The wine was making her pouty. It felt liberating to get all of this sexual tension on the table, like it had been something she ordered from the waitress, delivered hot and ready. She was not ready to follow the rules anymore.

"No, love. She had availability on you, that's worth a hell of a lot more than blond hair and a bald quim." It was now Michael's turn to get prickly. "Besides, from what I have seen, you have a hell of a lot more to offer than bleached hair and a wax job." He allowed his eyes to roam down into the V-cut of her sweaterdress. "Your body is definitely more my speed." His eyes rose up to meet hers before she demurred away.

"Let's talk about something else, Michael."

"Sure. Like what?" Michael was proud of himself.

"That thing you said about building up the nerve to say goodbye to me. Were you for real?"

"As honest as I can get without crossing the line."

"And if I'd come out to Happy Hour?" God, the way he was looking at her right now melted her in her seat.

"Honestly," he started, "I would have made every effort to have you with me, instead of crying myself to sleep with a rose on my pillow."

Kate recognized the last half of the sentence to be his sassy sarcasm and laughed. She covered her mouth as she laughed. Michael made her feel so young and silly. "Well, you might have still been sleeping with just a rose if you tried anything, mister." She winked at him.

He raised an eyebrow. The gauntlet had been thrown down. A challenge. He certainly respected the line they'd set, and while he really did seem to have been ready to cross it the other night, he also seemed sincere in thinking the moment had passed permanently. That let Kate breathe a little easier. There were no expectations after all, and when the check arrived, they would simply hug, perhaps kiss on the cheek, and say good-bye forever.

"So will the weather in London be a big change from here?"

Around and around they went, avoiding the question that would come at the end of the night. Jack watched it like a ballet set to a pop song. It was exciting to watch and yet kept him on the edge of his seat.

The little things hit him the hardest: the way Kate touched her neck when listening to Michael, how she'd reach between them and touch his hand when she was trying to make a point, the way she giggled at his stories. Yet she still fidgeted nervously with her dress, pulling it down over her thighs like it was somehow revealing too much, despite her black leggings. She crossed her legs over and over again.

Michael was just as infatuated, although he did a better job of hiding it. He stared at her just a moment too long, studying her as she put in her order with the waitress or when she glanced about the restaurant.

There were times when Jack didn't think she even remembered he was there. At the beginning he saw her craning her neck looking for him, and relaxing when she made eye contact with him. By the end of dinner, she didn't even care.

Things began to tail off. He watched as Kate stood, excusing herself to the ladies room. Without appearing too obvious, Jack traced her across the room, then stood to follow. He was there in the small foyer when she emerged, the two of them standing alone in the back of the restaurant.

"So," Jack asked with a droll smirk, "having a good time?"

He was caught off guard when she flung herself into his arms. Her kiss tasted of roasted beef tips, a brown gravy and a hint of red wine.

"Take me home, Jack." She pressed her soft curves against him. Her arms shook where they clung to his neck and she buried her face in his shoulder. She wore her sext perfume that made her smell like warm cotton candy – the same aroma she saved for their date nights together. He looked behind her, at the door to women's room, and considered dragging her in there, and fucking her. _Two posh restaurants in one day? Hot. Taking advantage of your wife, who clearly needs you? Don't be a dick._

"I will if you really want me to, but remember what today is. I don't want you to have any regrets once today ends, and he leaves tomorrow. For good."

Kate looked up at her husband, feeling tiny in his arms. "This isn't just about me." She reached down and found him hard. "Tell me what you want me to do."

Could it be that simple? Was Kate's fantasy less about doing things with Michael and more about submitting to Jack. No, she clearly wanted to fuck her co-worker. But like the Kate he had grown to love, she needed permission to act badly. "Are you attracted to Michael?"

"Yes."

"Have you thought about kissing him, Kate?"

"Yes."

"Fucking him?"

Her voice peeped and she hung her head. "Yes."

"I want you to do all those things and more." Kate raised her head and looked up into Jack's eyes. "I want you to just let go. Tonight you are not Kate, the married mother of two and responsible employee. You're just Kate, tonight. A woman who can do whatever she wants, and have none of it count tomorrow."

"Jack I really don't think I can." It went against every married, Catholic, good-girl instinct she had, no matter how erotic the thought was.

"You can. You just need a little push. So here is what I want you to do. First, fix your lipstick." Jack reached into his pocket and pulled a set of strange keys. "Then fluff out your hair a little." He placed the set of keys into Kate's hand and continued to direct her. "Then I want you to go out there and…" Kate's eyes widened.

Kate maneuvered her way back to Michael's table. A small part of her hoped he would have tired of waiting and had left. The rest of her worried that he had done just that. When she got back, he was still there in all his fresh, sexy blue-eyed beauty.

"Did I ever tell you how jealous I am of your hair color?" she asked. They had similar shade of chestnut brown, although hers had to be maintained with careful, meticulous coloring. Michael's was just so naturally attractive. And how he had it cut short was especially sexy. Hers was curly and wavy as it arched down her chin and neck, like tonight. Bounce and waves were her friends.

"But I love your hair," he protested. "So many times I have pictured that brown hair of your bopping up and down on my lap with your curls tickling my thighs. So sexy." Line crossed. The game was indeed afoot.

Kate could feel an evening's worth of fine wine and rich food coursing through her. She'd stopped them both at the end of the second bottle – well beyond her limit at least, but not so much that she couldn't recover.

"Do you know what today is?" She could feel her veins swell as her heart pumped faster and stronger.

"Friday?"

"I mean what holiday it is?"

Michael shook his head, his heavy brow furrowing as he rubbed his fingers across it. "International Texting a Former Co-Worker Who You Have A Crush On Day?"

Kate laughed. No, a national holiday. And wait a minute. I have a crush on you?"

Michael leaned back and smiled, swirling the remnants of his wine. "Hmm…Apparently it's also International Live In Denial Day."

"Today is Leap Day."

Michael politely nodded. "It _is_ Leap Day, but I wouldn't qualify it as a holiday."

Kate took a deep breath. After this point, there was no going back. She felt a little silly rattling off Jack's idea of the day, but when she was done, all Michael did was nod and say, "Interesting premise."

The next few moments felt like an out-of-body experience for Kate. She saw herself open her mouth to speak. She even remembered composing words in her head. But it did not feel like she was in control when she asked Michael, "So do you want to get out of here?"

Michael smiled. "Sure."

Like that, she snapped back into her body, rushing and delirious. "Great." She giggled.

"Did you have anywhere in mind?" His voice cracked in his enthusiasm. "It's still pretty early." Kate checked her cell which read 9:07pm. In married-with-children terms, that was far from early. For Kate, at that moment, with Michael before her, it was the break of dawn.

Kate remember the keys Jack handed to her that she placed in her purse. "Actually I did." She couldn't wipe the smile from her face. "A friend that owns a nearby office owes me a huge favor and I decided to call her on it." A little white lie wouldn't hurt. Jack's friend did owe him a favor and Jack's friend did own the office building they were about to use. Besides, she couldn't tell Michael the truth. What was she going to say? _Yes, Michael. My husband gave me a set of keys to his buddy's office building so he can sneak in the back entrance while we fucked on the leather couches so he can watch us and jerk off! Oh yeah_, she reassured herself,_ that would go over well_.

The way Michael's brows rose made her uneasy. Oh no. Did she let on something? Did he know? "I mean, it's not too far, you know, and I don't think either of us should be driving."

"Fair point, love." He relaxed. _Nice save, Kate_, she thought to herself. "Always the practical one, you." Kate squeezed her thighs together until she felt the heat radiating from her pussy as her thighs kissed. "C'mon, Kate. Let's fly this coup.

It was a nice night, despite it being the end of February. Not a bad evening for walking, and despite the typical chill in the air, the wine consumed kept them both warm as they walked. Kate was right. They were too wobbly to drive. The half-mile walk would be good. Sobering. Stimulating. Maybe sanity would return and this would indeed be just a long stroll to sexual frustration past memory lane.

"You're sure about this? Michael asked halfway through their quiet walk.

Kate's heart raced and her cheeks burned, but she was not going back now. She slid her hand into Michael's and pulled him to a stop. He looked back at her, his defined cheeks, square jaw and steely blue eyes square with hers. She liked the apprehension that pulled at his brow. It spoke of good character.

"I'm sure." She dragged him to her. He turned. She caught his face in her hands, so gruff, so defined. _Don't think. Don't question. Don't freak out. This is happening. This is real. Tonight you're just Kate._

Michael's kiss unfolded like a riddle: _how can something so satisfying not even begin to satisfy?_ She pushed her tongue past his lips. She tilted her head and went deeper. She dug her hands into the warmth beneath his overcoat and closed her hands tightly onto his shirt, clutching him against her body. Closer. Harder. Tighter. _How can something so satisfying not even begin to satisfy? Easily_, she answered_. When you want more._


	5. Chapter 5: Board Meeting

**_Chapter 5_**

Jack followed Kate and Michael from what he thought was a safe distance. At first, it was easy due to the heavy traffic of restaurant row. It got trickier as they turned into the ghost town of the post-workday neighborhood. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat and held his head down, hoping they wouldn't look back.

When he saw them stop in the shadow of a darkened, building's awning, he had to keep going. So much for safe distances. To stop now, on the middle of the avenue, in no man's land, would have drawn too much attention from Michael and possibly suspicion. Watching their silhouettes melt into one another was like watching a spark hit gunpowder. His ears rang with the enormity of their embrace. His legs kept carrying him closer and closer, caught in the gravity of their kiss. He pulled his collar up around his neck with trembling hands, feigning an extra chill in the mild evening's air. He felt Michael's eyes flicker up to him as he passed and for a moment, Jack's body went numb, wondering if Kate's co-worker would recognize him. It made him feel like a suicide bomber. Jack simply grinned, one man to another. "Evening." There was no recognition in Michael's eyes. He simply returned the nod with slight bashfulness. Jack breathed out.

"Come on, Michael. Let's keep walking." Kate's voice was thick, a whisper spoken slightly louder.

"And to think, I was just getting used to it here." Michael's British charm after the hard, deep embrace sent a shockwave up her already moist pussy.

Jack wanted to look back, desperately, but resisted. He slowed as much as he could without being obvious. He caught his wife's reply, just at the edge, hearing her reveal, "If you like this, then just wait." Jack adjusted himself. Her words were as much for him as they were for Michael.

Jack ducked his head down and walked on.

Like all other offices in the affluent, historic neighborhood, the office building was actually a converted brownstone. While the building had charm that the steel and glass boxes of downtown lacked, it was an old building and came with its own set of problems – security was one of the biggest. Both the front and side entrances were locked with a simple, conventional set of keys. Jack was lent both sets from his friend, who was told the office was to be used for a late night poker game. "Guys night out! I hear you. I wish I could make it," joked his friend. _More like wives' night out and I'm glad you're not_, Jack thought as he tucked both sets of keys in his pocket. Getting far enough ahead of Kate and Michael allowed Jack to go through the side entrance and settle in without fear of being spotted. And he knew exactly where he was headed.

Kate nearly collapsed when Jack had passed them on the street. She had been lost in Michael, alone in their world. Jack's voice had snapped her out of it. She looked up and down the street. Other were about, not just her husband.

As good as it was to be in Michael's arms, his thumbs stroking her hips, tracing the edge of her black leggings underneath her green sweaterdress, she couldn't wait to get him alone.

They walked the rest of the way linked arm-in-arm. Michael's cologne was muted, yet strong when close. She liked keeping him close. And soon, she'd have him closer. Have his shirt off. Have her hands run along his cut abs. Down to the buckle of his belt.

The double doors of the office building were glass-paned monstrosities that creaked and slammed as they passed through them. "Trying to alert the press we are here, love?" Michael grinned and leaned against the wall as Kate fumbled with the keys to open the second set of doors. She winced. It suddenly occurred to her that someone might be working late. How would she explain this? She started formulating a story when Michael's hand lanced into hers and all thought went out of her head.

He stared at her curiously. "How did you get access to this building, dear?" His words were gentle and more curious than suspicious. He studied the shadows as they crossed the polished floor to the empty receptionist desk. While the exterior was old and historic, the firm had transformed the interior into something sleek and modern.

Kate scrambled to come up with a story. "Uh, well it's hard to explain." She was desperately trying to buy time. "Let's just say my friend has been known to use this place when she felt like stepping out on her husband." A lie to cover a lie.

"My, my, Kate. The company you keep. Tsk tsk!" Both of them laughed at Michael's jibe as they drifted down the hallway. The main corridor kept its granite floor, paneled walls, and crown molding, yielding to soft cherry wood, frosted glass and rich birch. When she closed her eyes, she could imagine the halls buzzing with people, flitting from room to room, up and down the glass steps, talking on hands free headsets as they gesticulated wildly, screaming about buying or selling stocks, or nailing the son of a bitch on circumstantial evidence, or crunching numbers of some sort, or whatever the fuck it was that they did in this place. But now it was dark and empty, filled with nothing but a sweet, old smell – the smell of history. Of pride in craftsmanship.

Echoing her thoughts, Michael mumbled, "I can _see_ the memories. I can _feel_ them."

Kate thought about saying something coy yet meaningful – "Let's add to them" or "I have something else you can feel" – but held her tongue and let the silence speak for itself. Instead, she asked a question that had been on her mind as they walked here. "Did you and Mary ever…" Her modesty was back – the alcohol must be wearing off. "Ya know – …in the office?"

She felt Michael's eyes flash on her but didn't look at him. Couldn't look at him. "Still thinking about that?"

"No… Well, maybe a little." Could her face possibly get any redder?

"We talked about it a few times – usually when we went out for drinks after work – but never did. Not fully." Kate led Michael through the labyrinthine corridors of the old building, lit only by the emergency lighting, trying desperately to remember Jack's precise directions. "But like I said, love. It's not like we were a regular thing. She was available and you –"

"Michael, seriously, you don't need to apologize. I'm a grown woman." She felt the slightest bit of jealousy tugging at her stomach but nothing like it had been at dinner. "Although if I was Mary, I would have dragged you into the teachers' lounge and…"

Michael looked beyond her, where the glassed in boardroom loomed dark and empty. He laughed. "And?"

Kate recognized the board room from Jack's description. They arrived. "And?" she said, her heart thumping like a speaker in a dancehall. "And why don't we go inside and I'll just show you." Shouldering the door open, she led a grinning Michael into the room and flipped the lights up to a warm glow.

The long, executive table was glossy mahogany and ringed with high-backed leather chairs. The room itself was on the interior of the building, so the architects designed it with floor-to-ceiling glass walls to make it feel more open. With the lights on in an otherwise dark office, those walls acted like a two-way mirror. Kate and Michael would be on the reflective side; Jack on the windowed side.

Kate tried to be casual, even as her heart climbed up into her throat and she could barely hear a thing over the persistent womp-womp-womp roar of adrenaline in her ears. Her nipples screamed through the combined material of bra and dress. What was she doing? Why was she still here? What the fuck was she trying to prove and to whom?

She tossed her clutch purse onto the table, turned, and leaned back. Her knuckles turned white where they gripped the edges of the strong mahogany. She barely inhaled a single breath as the air hung heavy with erotic electricity.

Michael closed the distance, forever the cheetah moving on the injured prey. There was nowhere else to go. Nothing to delay the moment. No buffer as he pressed his torso against hers. One hand rested on her hip. His other hand cradled her face. She tilted her head against his hand, her lashes fluttering, but not closing.

"You are stunning." His lips covered her mouth, soft and gentle. Despite the sexual inferno that threatened to burn them alive, the kiss was slower than the kiss they'd exchanged outside. Michael pulled back. Kate's lips followed, unwilling to relent. "Anything goes?" he asked.

The question scared her. Her breathless whisper scared her even more. "Anything."

"I'm going to enjoy this." Their lips crashed together and the sweetness was gone. Their tongues found one another in the maelstrom, thrashing and fighting. Michael pushed her coat off and tossed it aside. He then hoisted her onto the table. Kate lay back on her elbows as Michael removed her boots, placing them together on the floor, maintaining some semblance of a gentleman. As he turned and moved to her, Kate playfully placed her sole on his chest. Michael smiled and slowly kissed her toes. As he reached for the waistband of her leggings, his hands slowly matriculated their way up her calves, and along her thighs. He hooked the thumbs of his fingers and slowly worked the shiny snug pants down and removed them, never breaking eye contact. Kate smiled as she deliciously bit her lower lip, anticipating Michael's next move. Offering him almost no option, Kate spread her legs slowly, almost bashfully, and he stepped between them.

Michael slid his hands up the outside of her bare leg as he leaned forward and kissed her, pushing under the dress. She felt him hum as his hand found the top of her thighs. Michael kissed down Kate's neck, moving slowly and methodically away from her lips. Kate breathed an impromptu question. "Do all men like thighs?"

Through his kisses, Michael composed a response. "We like legs. Period. Bare. In stockings. Hell, love, I don't even mind pantyhose if the woman has the legs to wear them."

"And you think I do?"

"Now you're just fishing for a compliment," Michael taunted playfully while kissing her neck softly.

"And?"

Michael ran his legs higher, fingering the lacy edge of her thong. He moved to kiss her again, diverting at the last moment to draw his lips right up against her ear. "I have always thought you had the best legs in the office."

Kate had a weak spot behind her left ear. When Michael kissed her there, with soft, puckered lips, she groaned, tilting her head to give him greater access. She offered silent thanks that she washed her hair, making it soft and easily maneuverable. Michael accepted the offering, teasing her until everything faded but his lips. She felt his lips, warm and soft, behind her ear and to her delight, she felt his cock grow in his slacks. It was rigid and alive where it pushed between her legs. She rocked her hips forward on the table, grinding her panty-clad mound against him. Her breath came in stuttering gasps, running up the length of her throat before escaping parted lips.

Michael didn't stop nuzzling her ear or neck and she didn't want him to. She clasped a hand at the base of his neck, steadying herself and holding him there as they humped through their clothes. If things hadn't gone hazy and feverish, Kate would have laughed. She hadn't done this since one her first dates with Jack when she was a college freshman all those years ago.

But things were hazy and her mind was definitely feverish. All she could focus on was the soft lips on her skin and the hard mass pressing between her thighs. The bashfulness was gone and forgotten as she opened her legs wider. The chair she had dug her heel into for balance wheeled away from her. She felt herself slipping at the edge of the table and tightened her hand on Michael's neck. She could feel his muscles ripple beneath her hand.

Time ebbed and flowed as their clothes left their bodies. Michael's shirt went first, her fingers hurrying down the buttons as their tongues danced. He worse a sleeveless undershirt beneath and she couldn't stop herself. She touched him gingerly, running her fingers from elbow to shoulder, tracing the dips and rises of hard muscle. Kate's breath caught as she touched his shoulders.

"Want to see more?" he teased.

Kate nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Time flowed freely again. His tight tee came away, revealing the stony slopes of his pectoral muscles and the ripple across his stomach. Their lips found one another again. One hand was trapped between them, thumb tracing along the small, tiny trail of hairs that disappeared into his pants. The other rested on the bulge of his shoulder.

Kate wrapped her legs around Michael. Flesh met flesh at last, hot and smooth. Michael went back for her neck and when she sighed away, he covered her bra-encased breast with a hand. She gave herself to him more, tightening one leg and spreading the other out and away.

Michael slid his hand under the cup of the bra and found her light brown nipple hard and waiting. She gasped. His mouth soon followed. She scooted back on the mahogany, resting on her arms, and raked her fingers through his brown hair.

Kate's body couldn't keep up under Michael's relentless onslaught. She couldn't breathe hard enough. Couldn't think fast enough. Her heart couldn't hammer hard enough. She pulled him against her with her leg. His cock was there again, pressing against her mound.

"Don't hold back," Kate hissed. Michael's response was immediate. His tongue lapped at her nipples and he kissed around her soft, ample breasts. Sharp tingles were delivered to her soaked mound. He gathered her tits in his hands and brought them together. Her bra was no more than a shelf for them to now rest on. He switched nipples, feasting on her, tongue pressing to soft, warm flesh. She squeezed her fingers into his hair to offset the tingling.

"Oh fuck, Kate," Michael groaned, yanking his head away. She tried to pull him back but he was as immobile as a boulder. "Is that how we are playing?"

She should have cringed under that hungry stare, ringed in red. His jaw was set. His white teeth smiled. Here was a man tired of playing games.

Michael grasped her lacy, emerald little thong and yanked it off her legs. For a moment, she held her knees together, salvaging modesty as the final line drew near. Michael surveyed her. She felt it as surely as she would if he'd touched her physically. His scrutiny felt like warm wax being dripped pleasantly across her neck, her nipples, the plunge of her cleavage. She opened her legs for him as focus sizzled across her tummy, coming to a rest on her glistening waxed womanhood.

"So beautiful," he observed in a whisper. "So fucking beautiful." The harsh clasp of metal on metal made her stomach twist but she embraced it. He unfastened his belt and his trousers and shimmied out of the pants and boxer briefs together. Her heart seized. She was alone in a room with a naked man. His beautiful cock was erect and was hers and hers alone.

Their mouths found each other again in a fiery kiss. They sucked air deeply through flaring nostrils as this time their hands once again explored – this time without restriction. Kate curled her hand around Michael's cock. It was slightly longer than Jack's, but not as thick. She noticed that it curved upwards like a scimitar and her pussy was already imagining what that would feel like. She slid her hands lower where his balls hung, swollen and shaved. He felt good like that: bare, raw and oh-so-wrong.

Michael pulled back, shifting over her, lining his cock with her will-primed pussy. Their eyes met in one last question. _Are. You. _**Sure**_?_

In the other room, sitting in an armchair shrouded in the dark, Jack was stunned. He couldn't breathe. Emotion wrestled in his gut. Jealousy battle excitement. Arousal battled betrayal. Whatever had gotten them here, to this moment, Kate wasn't doing this for just her husband. She wanted to fuck Michael as much as Jack wanted to watch, and the profound epiphany stung.

He could see everything in that conference room as clear as a lighted fishbowl. Doubt seized him for one weak moment. He imagined himself storming into the room and pulling Michael off his wife – imagined beating a lesson into the man's face.

Then as quickly as the cloud of anger arrived, it quickly dissipated. Jack wanted this. He could hear his breath huff in the darkness as he watched. He was so Jacked up that he didn't trust himself to do more than stroke his cock slowly, and even that was almost too much. Was this happening? Was he dreaming? Was Kate, the sweet woman he'd married so long ago, willingly opening her legs for another man?

He sharply shook his head – tried desperately to clear it. At the end of the night, Kate would be his again. She'd be a wife, and a mother, and an upstanding employee of her school's community. But tonight, right now, in the last moments of Leap Day, he wanted to see Kate as Michael did: a woman open to anything.

Jack watched Kate's face, memorizing the carnality of her lust. God he loved seeing her like that: heavy eyes, mouth parted in a frozen gasp.

She reached up, clutching the base of Michael's neck, and yanked his head against her shoulder. Jack sucked in a breath without releasing his last. His heart beat quickly in his chest.

Jack pulled his hand from his swollen cock as Kate's cry split the air. He almost lost it. Almost sprayed prematurely for the first time since early adolescence. He gripped the armrests of his chair, forcing air through his nose and out his mouth, yet he couldn't take his eyes off the scene before him. He watched the muscles of Michael's back shift. Kate curled a leg around Michael's back and shuddered. He couldn't see the penetration because of the angle, but he didn't need to.

She'd leapt.

It took her a moment to realize that it was her voice crying, "Oh God! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh God!" That was her throat she was screaming raw. Michael felt so different. So new. So fucking fantastic. Each stroke pressed right against her G-spot with that glorious curved cock. Each thrust was a blip of concentrated pleasure. It radiated through her body. "Oh, God!"

It had been so easy. One moment, he was resting against her pussy, the crown nudging across her slick slit. The next he was slicing inside her, slipping from head to balls in one satisfying shove after another. Everything flexed as he penetrated her.

Michael stretched and delayed his strokes. He cocked his hips back until just the head stretched her smooth opening, then drove forward, letting Kate experience the entire curved length as it split her. She clenched her pussy each time he drew back, wanting to hold him deep, and cried out each time he rammed home. The long fucks grew stronger. Faster. His curved anatomy skipped across her G-spot with each pass.

She clawed at his back and neck gently without drawing blood or breaking skin. She wanted to be smothered. Wanted to be buried in the avalanche of his body. Wanted to feel the electric spark of his skin on hers, his heart beating against hers, his breath hot on her neck. He acquiesced, one hand full of silky tit, the other cradling her head. His body rolled across hers, gliding smoothly on their mixed sweat.

She glanced over Michael's shoulder, out to where the windows turned to mirrors, reflecting their indiscretion. She watched them, seeing was Jack saw. Seeing Michael's powerful body, naked and tight, fucking her. Was this what Jack wanted to see? Was this what he wanted his wife of a dozen years to feel?

Kate saw Michael's back arch and felt him grunt. Such perfect soft skin, wrapped over hard chiseled muscle. She felt his liquid squirt deep into her folds. She did want this. She did love this. As he thrust his orgasm deep inside her welcoming womanhood, Kate came, thinking of Jack out there, beating off to her.

And out in the dark room, Jack joined her. His balls tightened when he first saw Michael grunt and thrust, knowing he was about to feel his wife with his freed seed. His breath caught, frozen in that profound moment that preceded his orgasm. He watched Kate arch up under Michael, her heels linking together in the small of the man's lower back. He heard his wife cum so loudly that he felt the strains in her throat from where he sat.

Jack pulled the skin tight, holding his cock at its root and let himself go. Cum arced out, flying into the air, like freshly launched fireworks. He forced his eyes to stay open. To watch the show. Watch his wife in the arms of another man, with this new man's recently spent cock still deep and hard inside of her, dribbling the last remnants of his cum inside of her spasming pussy.


End file.
